


Race Against Time

by Sweetiedee



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetiedee/pseuds/Sweetiedee
Summary: Abbie has to save Ichabod from a vengeful Katrina.





	

**Katrina**

Swirling winds and howling skies were once associated with tender, soft kisses and tight, warm embraces. A distant memory passing in the night. Their love now absent, replaced with bitterness and frost. “Grace Abigail Mills.” She scoffs at the mere thought of the treacherous she devil that enchanted his soul and stolen her happiness. She loathed being reduced to this person, a cliché. However, she found it difficult to manage.

**Abbie**

She remained level headed and focused; it was the only way she would make it in time. "You won’t lose him...you can’t." Why hadn’t she seen this coming? Of course, it would blow up in her face. The memories of the past flooded her thoughts, overloading her mind, and impeding her sense of direction. He’s married, she thought as he trailed kisses up her toned-brown, glistening thighs. I can’t do this, her conscious rang as he nibbled, caressed, and teased her core. Her conscious screamed STOP, NO, AND DON’T, but her lips uttered "No, don’t stop." I will, I won’t her tortured soul pleaded for her to decide, and she eventually did. She had chosen Crane in a moment of weakness, and she held on because she loved him. Only now they had flown too close to the sun, scorched by the very one they had betrayed. Panic crept in as the image of what she would do to him settled upon her. She pressed desperately on the gas flooring the engine. “Hold on Crane, I’m almost there.”

**Ichabod**

If he had a do over, he would change nothing. Abbie, his Abbie, had allowed him the most coveted experience, Happiness. Though their time was brief he’d reveled in the tranquility of their union, drinking all that she offered. She had given him so much, in the form of so little. Kind words spoken from lips so soft had mended the pieces of his shattered soul, and turned him into a painted image of his former self. She had smooth the edges of his sullen countenance, and eradicated all doubt that his heart belonged to another. Had he ever truly loved before? He had believed so, but because of Abbie he questioned it all. Never had he felt a moment in which his body was slave to a voice. A voice so laced with honey and skin that tasted sweeter. Had he fooled himself into thinking he had been in love with Katrina, no less? Of this, he was sure a fallacy, for none had made his lip quiver from a glance, and none had made him drunk with need. Not one had lay ruin for any thought of another woman for the rest of his days, and neither caused him to be foolish enough to forget ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’. Hence the predicament he found himself occupied; a tale of horrors, spun by a devious and vengeful wife.

**Katrina**

  
Cool winds blew as the dew settled on the hard surfaces. She watched as he lay passively on the Cabin’s hardwood floors. Watching wistfully as his body shivered in response to the cool draft seeping through the cracks. The Ichabod she knew was tougher, harder, she thought. She was doing him a favor of sorts. He would be free of the spell that bound him and safe in a space beyond time. “Soon it’ll just be us,” she whispered before pulling out the incantation scroll. It had been committed to memory, but she refused to leave anything to chance. She couldn’t trust the little minx not to catch up to them soon.

Her skin glowed a glossy eggshell as her auburn tresses blew in the witch’s storm. The sky thundered as lightning struck creating streaks of cyan blue flashes in the spring night. The pitch intensified to a level indicative of a war-zone; however, the noise was oblivious to the neighbor’s compliments of the silencing spell she caste. “TALEHM DE OULE SE,” she chanted preparing to send Crane to his awaiting prison. Crane’s body thrashed about as the cabin shook with fury.

**Abbie**

  
Eyes burning from refusing the need to blink for even a second. The terrain was beyond rocky, and at any moment she could land at the bottom of a cliff, but the risk was worth it; saving the man she loved was worth everything she stood to lose. She could sense that she was close, his spirit called to her, and she willed the truck to move faster.

She could see the cabin in the distance, a mixture of fear and relief firmly in the pit of her belly. The car rolled a bit as she wasn’t fully in gear. Exiting the car, she grabbed the blade Hawley spent months hunting down. They were to use it to cast out the demon Shali from the body of a poor unsuspecting widower wreaking havoc on the town, but they would have to figure that out later. There would have to be another way.

As soon as she stepped into the cabin her ears rang from the thunder claps and her hair blew from the strong winds. Katrina stood arms outstretched towards the hole in the roof. The sight of Crane’s body drifting towards the opening lit a fire under her feet propelling her into action.

She plunged the knife deep into her sternum without a second thought. Katrina winced as the blade pierced her skin inching towards her heart. Her black orbs drained of color, as the tip found its home in the organ. Abbie should feel sorrow, under normal circumstances she would, but this woman nearly cost her all that she held dear in this world.

Abbie snatched her hand from the weapons handle as it burned with intensity and spontaneously combusted, reducing Katrina to a pile of ash. The force of the blast compelled her body backward into the cabin wall. It was a wonder the entire cabin didn’t go up in flames. “Lieutenant…Mills…ABBIE!” The urgency in the final cry forced her eyes to open.

“Crane,” she whispered.

**Ichabod**

  
“Come on, COME ON,” he screamed frantically rubbing the ropes across the jagged edges of the surface bar. Abbie, you must be ok, he thought willing it to be so. Free from his shackles, he rushed to her side. His hands shook with anxiety, mind and body reluctant to move her fearing it would cause more damage. “Lieutenant…Mills…ABBIE!” He laid his forehead upon hers and closed his eyes praying that everything would be okay, and then he heard it. The faint response was all he needed to breathe again.

“I’m alright. It just took the wind out of me for a second.”

He wasn’t swayed. “Where are you hurt?” He asked rubbing every bit of exposed skin, checking for nicks and bruises. Not finding any wounds, he allowed them to stand immediately kissing her hands, neck, and face; he desperately needed to prove to himself it was real. The progression of events had allowed him to believe it would be some time before he would make it back to her. The despairing thought plagued him when the roof blew open and he was almost sucked into the atmosphere. He felt her pulling him closer, melting into him. “Did you think all was lost?” he asked.

“Never, not once,” she answered pulling him down until their lips met in a searing kiss.

Unable to withstand the yearning in his belly, he ambled them towards the door.

“What are we gonna do about all this,” she asked encompassing the view of the room with her spinning finger?

“We’ll phone clean up from our bed.”


End file.
